The Christmas Cracker Episode
by With The What Now
Summary: Alex isn't allowed to buy Christmas crackers this year, despite being ordered to by a Christmas-fuelled Jack. See what happens when he's told 'no' thanks to the EU. A little Christmassy fun one-shot crack-fic for you all.


**Random and first crack-style one-shot fic from me, I know, but this is based on what I was told when I went to buy crackers, and told that thanks to new EU laws, I have to be 21 to buy them. In response, I post this: a story about Alex going to buy crackers, but being refused, and his revenge.**

**This'll end with the beginning of a new Alex Rider mission, although I won't write that part. Essentially, it's my take on how a new mission would take place, based on my annoyance of crackers.**

**So, without further ado...**

_Alex Rider, December 17__th__, 2010_

_London, England._

"Alex!" Jack called from downstairs to her ward. "I need more crackers for the tree."

"So go get some then!" Alex shouted down to her from his bedroom, where he was strategically avoiding the decorating of their tree. He'd been doing so for the past hour or so after he'd been ordered to chop a couple of inches off the base of the tree, – this year, Jack had decided that she wanted an authentic Christmas tree so she could smell the pine in the air throughout the house. Really, though, she only wanted one due to her seeing the family next door dragging one through the door the previous weekend, and she wasn't one to be outdone. So the fake tree stored in the loft upstairs stayed in its place, collecting dust, and the Rider home was £50 out of pocket for a tree that'd lose it's branches within three weeks.

Not only that, but the house had been filled with screams as Alex did his sawing of the trunk. Six ladybirds had popped up out of the netted tree throughout the forty-five minutes that Alex was doing his job, and Jack didn't handle bugs very well. Every time she'd spotted one, she'd screamed, letting go of her hold on the tree, and moved to the other side of the room. Each time Alex had had to stop sawing, pick the bug up, and shove it outside of their kitchen door into their yard, before reassuring Jack that it was gone, and she could get back to holding the tree still. The first time this had happened, Alex had cut himself on the sharp blade of the long coping saw after jumping in surprise at her scream. He'd cursed quietly, but looked on in amusement as Jack did her thing, but after the third time it became quite annoying.

Of course, that was nothing compared to when Alex was underneath the tree after his job was done and was fixing the trunk into place against the stand – he'd had one screw in place, crawling behind the tree to secure the second when Jack screamed and let go of the tree. She was on the other side of him, and pushed the tree away from her, directly onto Alex. Without all three screws holding the tree up, and with the force of her push, the tree had collapsed, straight onto Alex's back. He wasn't amused in the slightest, and being trapped had to wait three excruciating long minutes for the ladybird that had dropped to the ground from the tree to fly away, and for Jack to struggle to lift the tree off of him.

After they'd finally secured it in place, Alex had refused to help decorate the evil thing, and headed up stairs, telling Jack "Just think, Jack – that tree was in your car for an hour. There's bound to be plenty of bugs in there now, and they're most probably multiplying as we speak." He'd cackled at that, just to scare Jack even more.

And so, Alex had spent his time in his room, refusing to join in on the Christmas spirit that is Jack.

"Don't get smart with me, Alex!" she shouted. "Go out and buy me some more, will you? And make sure they've only got red and white patterns on them. No silver, no gold, no blue, no purple or any other colour that isn't red or white."

Ah yes, how could Alex forget? Every year Jack had a colour theme for the tree, normally two colours, but sometimes three if she thought they'd go well together. Every year she'd spend weeks going around the many different shops selling baubles and other decorations looking especially for those colours. There was to be no other colour decorating her tree except those outlined in her colour scheme, and that included the crackers placed there.

He still didn't understand why she needed a colour scheme – in the past, it was only her, uncle Ian and himself that ever saw the tree, maybe Tom sometimes when he came round, but that was it. This year, it was just him, Jack and Tom to see it. What did it matter if the Santa figurine from when he was four was on the tree? Sure, it was a bit scruffy around the edges, but it was still just a decoration.

"Fine!" Alex replied, jogging down the stairs – he'd rather go out and buy some crackers than stay in the house where she could ask him to do something worse than that.

He grabbed the money from her out-stretched hand, looked at the tree, and let out a relieved breath, thankful he didn't have to decorate it – there was at least 40 decorations on it. No wonder she'd spent so long on the tree – each decoration, Alex was sure, had been moved at least three times because it didn't "look right" with the decoration next to it, which was in the perfect place.

Alex didn't dare to tell her that she'd forgotten to put the lights on it – plain white lights, by the way. The multi-coloured lights that had been frequent in their house until Alex had reach seven, and he was deemed old enough to not be so attracted by them, had been deemed by Jack as "affecting the colour scheme". After all, when your colour scheme for that year was blue and silver, you didn't exactly want green and purple and red lights, now did you?

He walked slowly down the steps, and onto the road of his street – Britain had been affected by a cold snap two weeks before, and the country had pretty much come to a stand-still. Brooklands had still opened, much to Alex's – and every other student's – chagrin, whereas the other local schools, it seemed, had all shut.

After two weeks of no new snow, the white coldness had turned to ice on the pathways. The larger and more main roads had been cleared of the snow, and so wasn't as effected by it as the smaller ones and the pathways, so Alex and pretty much all other house-holders were forced to walk on the roads to avoid slipping. It was dangerous, but not as dangerous as the ice.

After entering the shopping centre, Alex spent over an hour looking for red and white crackers for Jack. He'd seen red and silver, white and blue, and many other colours that didn't fit into the colour scheme, but no red and white ones. It was as he entered _Next_, his final store before returning home, that he spotted the last box of red and white crackers on the shelf – and brilliant! One of the crackers in the companies' production had a £25,000 'chance to win card'. Jack would really love it – she was one of those people who always got their hopes up, believing they would actually win the £25,000. She never did, of course.

He picked it up, holding it tightly to his chest as he looked around warily, making sure no one was going to attempt to take it from him. Women + shopping + holiday season = one scared and paranoid Alex. _Next_ was any woman's heaven, as he saw by the queue at the tills.

Annoyingly there was six tills, but only three cashiers. Alex waited in line for over twenty minutes before he finally got to the till, where his patience was very close to being pushed over the line. He was normally a calm, take-it-in-stride boy, but the pushing and shoving of the ladies, and the kids screaming in their prams and buggies they'd bought along with them for some idiotic reason was grating on his nerves. He hated little children. Hated how they screamed and wouldn't shut up, but what he hated most was how their parents – particularly, Alex noted, the mothers – didn't attempt to quieten them. Obviously the kid wanted something, so for Christ's sake, sort them out. They didn't even pay attention to them, just stood in line talking to their friends.

He put his crackers on the desk, waiting for it to be scanned by the middle-aged woman. Annoyingly, another member of staff asked her a question, distracting her, and Alex was left waiting for a further minute as she answered the man's query. When she finally got back to Alex, she was about to scan it when out of nowhere she shook her head, looked at him again, and asked "have you got any ID?"

Alex was shocked – and rightly so. He could understand getting carded in a pub or a bar or in a newsagents if he asked for some cigarettes, but crackers? "Er, no. Why do I need ID?"

"New EU laws; have to be twenty-one to buy crackers." She said stoically, as if repeating something she said every day.

"What? But they're just crackers!" Alex protested, annoyed. He'd searched for them for hours, and waited in line for what seemed like a day for them, and now she was telling him he couldn't buy them?

"I'm sorry, but it's the law. I can't sell these to you unless you can prove you're over twenty-one."

"That's it! I'm voting UKIP at the next elections," Alex muttered darkly to himself as he turned away, leaving his prized crackers with the woman. "Bloody stupid EU. Can buy fireworks at eighteen, but crackers at twenty-one. Bastard stupid laws and stupid rules."

He continued this monologue until he reached his home, and still continued on it as he stalked angrily into the living room where Jack was – and yes, she'd rearranged it all again, this time remembering the lights.

"About time, Alex! What took you so long? I only asked you to get the..." She trailed off as she turned to look at Alex, noticing his lack of crackers.

"Please tell me you got the cracker, Alex."

"Wasn't allowed to buy them. Have to be twenty-one." Alex said, bitterness in his tone.

"What?" Jack spluttered, confused. "What do you mean you have to be twenty-one? They're crackers!"

"I know! I said that, too, but the woman wouldn't let me buy them, new EU laws or something."

Needless to say, both Alex and Jack were angry for the rest of the night – Jack because her tree wasn't 'perfect' without the extra crackers, and Alex because he was told he couldn't do something he wanted to.

And of course, that woman set in motion his plan for rebellion.

On the 19th of December, Kim Darroch, the UK Representative of the EU arrived in London to confer with the Prime Minister and other officials in a media-permitted conference room. Alex was thankful for this – he wanted as much publicity as he could get, and this meeting was going to be shown live to the nation – or at least those who cared enough to watch it – on BBC1 at six in the evening, a prime time for television watchers.

Kim Darroch, like Jack, had the name of a member of the opposite sex. Kim was, in fact, a man, not a woman. Dressed in a smart suit and with a briefcase in his right hand, he strolled confidently into the room, looking and smiling into the cameras, waving to the photographers, pleasing those at home watching this man with his looks and stride.

Alex had had no problems getting into the room and building itself, surprisingly. There was mass publicity surrounding this event, and with so much fuss it was easy to slip inside. He'd grabbed a hold of the pocket-calculator Smithers had given him before he'd gone to The Greenfields research facility in return to MI6 for stopping the reporter from exposing him and his past activities, and pressed the button that would cancel all of the CCTV cameras in the surrounding area for a two seconds – enough time to slip inside, not enough for the screens in the security to go black, just freeze for a little while.

Alex had taken a chance with this; he knew that the security would be tight on this place. Protests had been taking over the country as of late, what with the student fees about to go up, and murder prison sentences about to go down. The press conference didn't need to find itself presenting another one for the already-stretched out police force to deal with. His chance had been fine, it seemed. Alex got through the main doors, and followed those in front of him as confidently as if he were Kim and leading them.

If he were to succeed, then it would come down to appearances. If he looked shifty, they police and security guards would figure him out. If he looked like he belonged there, they'd take a little while longer to make their move. And all Alex needed was that 'little while longer'.

He'd placed himself fairly close to the main panel members, Kim Darroch in particular. He kept far enough away not to bring attention to himself, but close enough that he was slightly ahead of everyone else – to make his move, he'd need to make sure that no one was in front of him. Pushing forwards through people at the start of his attack would lead the security to gather there was a problem, and eliminate him that much sooner.

Instead, he wanted as Kim introduced himself and the other members of the conference to the cameras, and made his introductions as to what they were to discuss tonight as well as welcoming and questions and wanted-policies from the important people there.

The first topic was introduced, something about education changing, which quickly moved on to employment. Alex wasn't really all that interested. Politics wasn't his thing, if he were honest. Things changed. Fact. The government and the EU dictated things he couldn't change. Fact.

Of course, that was before he got rattled about not being able to buy crackers. He _was_ going to change that stupid law. Fact.

Pushing his hands into his trousers front pockets, he grabbed hold of the item he'd made Tom's older brother, Jerry, who was home for Christmas buy for him. He'd made some modifications to it, but nothing much.

When Kim finally allowed the other members to put forth policies they'd like to introduce to the EU referendum and consequently what the UK would follow, Alex made his move. Pulling on a balaclava, he ran forward, doing a perfect imitation of an Olympic hurdler, leaping over the barricades before the security guards knew what was happening. Jumping onto the raised platform of the panel members, he ran up to Kim, pulled out the item in his pocket, and pulled it apart.

Of course, the modified Christmas cracker made a loud bang, – part of the modification – but also dropped onto Kim's lap a note.

_Making me wait to buy crackers until I'm 21? Think again!_

Alex solidified this message with a shout "You EU idiots think I should be able to buy fireworks at 18, do you, but can't buy Christmas figgin' crackers until I'm 21? Are you _mad?"_

Alex was barely able make out the last couple of words before he was brought down buy three security guards. The first dove straight into his side, knocking him down, the second and third diving on top of Alex and the first guard. They quickly stood up, the first guard dragging a head-held-high Alex, who was shouting at them "You can't even make laws make sense!", "Idiots", and "No one can tell me not to buy crackers!"

Alex was off the platform and through side doors within moments, the security guards still holding him. Once out of them room, the men grabbed his balaclava whilst still dragging him along the corridor, and pulled it off his head.

"Shit!" The first one exclaimed in surprise. "It's a kid."

"And not just any kid," Alex said wittingly. "But an angry, pissed off teenager – the worst kind of kid."

He heard footfalls at that moment, and not seconds later six extra guards entered the corridor to help escort the kid out of there and into a newly made cell made for him.

Two hours later, the conference ended, despite Alex's intervention. Of course, he didn't know whether the cracker incident had worked or not, seeing as though he was still in his cell, and it was a further hour before Mr Crawley entered the room.

"Surprise, surprise," Alex said with fake shock in his voice. "I didn't think they'd send you!"

"Yes. Now come along, Alex. I've got other places to be." Came his gravelly voice. He was wearing the same suit as he'd been the day Alex had spotted him on his football playing field, although was without the dog by his side.

Alex followed him, getting dirty looks from the nine guards who'd restrained him as he passed them in the corridor. They were amongst the few still in the building, and as Alex stepped out of the entrance doors he noticed the lack of media that had been there when he'd arrived.

Crawley led Alex to a nondescript black car further down the street, and told him to get in. The man got in after him, and the driver started the car.

Of course Alex knew where they were headed – no way was the man, or rather, the company, going to just let him go home as he wanted to. No way. And Alex was proven right as they turned onto Liverpool street and headed into the private parking bay underneath the Royal and General bank.

Exiting and walking to the elevators, Crawley pressed the numbered button that would take them to Blunt's office, and consequently Mr Alan Blunt himself. If he was lucky, he might even get to see Mrs. Jones. She might even offer him a mint, although he doubted it.

Knocking on Blunt's door, Crawley left Alex, walking back to the lifts. At the annoyed feminine 'enter', Alex turned the doorknob and strode into the room. Mrs Jones stood where she had last time they'd met in this same room – right next to her boss, Mr Blunt.

"You've caused us some problems, Mr Rider. And no, I do not mean those in the past months, as you well know." Blunt started, not the only one annoyed, it seemed.

Alex protested. "Hey! Don't you go blaming this on me. I was just protesting my rights to be able to buy crackers! Blame the EU guy for making up a stupid law."

Alan wasn't pleased at the interruption, of course. The fewer words Alex said, the better as far as he was concerned.

"You do not understand, Mr Rider. The media are going to want your name, your details. They are going to want your picture, want to know what punishments you are going to have. Will it be prison? Community service?" The man scoffed at the latter punishment. "A fine? Of course, there will be those who praise you, but that will just be the minority. This cover up for you from us will be costly. It will also take time..." Alan let the sentence hang.

And Alex knew where he was going with this instantly. It would take time to do a complete cover up, and for the public and media to forget about the protesting balaclava man. It would take time for some new scandal to come about that would take precedence over Alex's stunt.

And really, in the eyes of Alan Blunt, Alex owed them for this cover up. Owed them for not allowing the police to cart him off, instead holding them back and collecting him themselves once the media were out of the way.

"Aw, hell. This is just... just... just crackers!" Were Alex's final words before Alan explained what Alex was going to be doing for him next.

**So... how'd ya'll like it? A little christmassy fun for you all.**

**The law is a real thing, aparently, and so is Kim Darr-whatever. Whether or not it's his fault for the cracker law, I don't know, but he's a representative of the EU, and so I now dislike the man with a passion.**

**Oh, and the christmas thing was a real event in my household, I being Alex. Although I didn't have a tree toppled on me like he did, my mam still screamed at the bugs and I still ended up with a cut on my hand.**

**Review, pelase.**


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